The Star Collectors
by Abibliophobia
Summary: There are far more strange and treacherous places in the universe than we can imagine. And some of those are closer than you think... A quirky mystery with a bit of silliness and general fun-poking thrown in for good measure. I own nothing. Please R&R!
1. Ch1: Re-defining Normal

**The Star Collectors**

**Part 1 **

**Re-defining Normal**

It was a well-known fact that most bipedal sentient species in the galaxy where all freakishly similar: in fact, if it weren't so obvious from each individual planet's fossil record that these species evolved independently one would think they had been planted there, like some galactic cultural experiment.

Trees; most man-hospitable planets had trees, and birds, mammals, insects… They all looked and behaved much like their otherworldly counterparts and regardless of where you stood (and quite often ducked) in the ever more complex and academically hazardous theory throwing contest, the fact remained, and it was damned convenient too.

So convenient in fact that it was all too easy to slip into the 'class M bubble' and forget that there were far more strange and treacherous places in the universe than we can imagine; the bottom of your sock drawer, the back of the washing machine, the wonderful world of _Charlie the Unicorn_ and… this place.

"_If he doesn't get his skinny butt back here right now_… HEY! You think this is funny do you?" A disgruntled McCoy shouted almost desperately at the retreating back of the Enterprise's first officer as he ventured further into the unexplored depths of cargo bay 2, "Damn-well wondering off set every last nerve on edge why in blazes did I volunteer for this job in the first place…."

There were days, and this was definitely one of them, when normality seemed like a rich delicacy that was scandalously taken for granted and only missed when it beggared off for a while in favour of a bit of appreciation elsewhere. Through a swirling haze of purple coloured fog the CMO sprinted after his Vulcan colleague only to run headlong into the inside of somebody's closet.

"Well this is new." He said after awkwardly disentangling himself from Spock's arms.

"Indeed. And decidedly uncomfortable, if you'll excuse me…" Spock quickly found the handle of the closet door and exited the cramped space into what appeared to be one of the junior officer's quarters.

Since running to a complete stop some indeterminable amount of time ago nothing had been quite where it should be. That is to say that space and time had seemingly curdled like milk in a glass of orange juice and joined up at unpredictable points to one part or other of the original design.

Spock had stepped off the bridge on day one and emerged two days later in the rec room. McCoy, who had been making his way to the bridge to treat a head injury and a broken wrist from the sudden deceleration had still been wandering the corridors four hours later where he, after following himself for a couple of minutes around deck 5, stopped to think about the impossibility of it all and promptly popped out of existence. Meanwhile the himself he'd been following felt a cold shiver down his spine, spared a glance behind him and walked into a wall.

_**Some indeterminable amount of time ago….**_

The Enterprise crew, following a particularly nasty bout of 'saving the universe' were looking forward to returning to the slightly less threatening areas of our beautiful spiral galaxy. Tired and more than a little emotionally burned out they were looking forward to being bored for a week or two and poking gentle fun at the amount of excitement that was generated in the science department over a big cloud of gas.

The forward viewer filled with the image of the dark looming cloud. James Kirk was unimpressed. "Spock…"

Spock did not look up from his scanning equipment as he replied, "Yes, Captain?"

"Can you, uh, colour code all the different gases and things. Make it look a little more, well, interesting to the lay-person so to speak?"

Spock seemed to sigh in his own curious way as he edited and augmented the viewer's representation of the cloud. A brightly coloured outwardly propelled mass of energy and matter appeared before them prompting an audible "Oooh" from the bridge crew.

"That's more like it Spock," Kirk smiled, "You know, 20th century astronomers and astrophysicists colour coded everything. It kept the public interested if it was three dimensional and nice to look at..." He finished his sentence as his attention was momentarily drawn to the sight of an Ensign from the science team leaning forwards over her console to retrieve a PADD that was just out of reach.

Spock raised an eyebrow and returned to his scanner; he commented dryly, "How little man-kind has changed."

As if in reply the intercom panel by the Captains arm buzzed, "Morning Doctor," Jim smiled as he accepted the call.

"Hi Jim," Came the chirpy reply, "tell Spock I like what he's done with the thing. Very pretty, always knew he was a bit of an artist at heart."

"Doctor, I believe your job was to detect and analyse traces of known and/or potential biological base compounds within the nebula, as far as I am aware this duty does not require access to the forward view screen."

"Aw, and a guy can't take a break to appreciate some fine colouring in? That's definitely one for your Mom's refrigerator door."

"My mother does not own a 'refrigerator'…"

Kirk rolled his eyes, "Was there actually a reason you called, Bones?"

He missed the reply as the ship, which had been skirting the outer edges of the nebular, made a sudden creaking sound and ground to a halt in the cloud of gas.

Now imagine impulse speed if you will; at between stop and warp one impulse speed has a range of zero to 299,792,458 meters per second to play around with, so while comparatively speaking it's not 'fast'…well, you get the point. Now bang on the breaks and cue dramatic bridge crew adjustment.

Sulu, who in Kirks opinion needed a seatbelt and possibly some safety mittens, had been thrown over his station and was sitting on a step cradling his right wrist. The aforementioned Ensign from the science team had gracefully head-butted the red railing behind her station and was lying out cold on the floor.

"What in Holy Hell was _that?_" came the startled voice over the com – the channel to sickbay was still open.

"When I find out, I'll let you know. Bones; I need a medic on the bridge, now." Kirk snapped off the com link and turned his attentions to his team on the bridge.

Reports soon came flying in from all decks and stations, minimal equipment damage, minor injuries and no apparent explanation for their sudden loss of momentum. While doubtless theories also flew abound as to the nature of their predicament (some more useful that others) there was one thing that James Kirk could be sure of; his CMO would attend the bridge in person. Conveniently tending to the health needs of the crew while fulfilling his role as ship's busy-body and getting the chance to have a look-in at what was really going on. So when, some ten minutes later, McCoy had not yet appeared, concern nagged its way through to the forefront of Jims mind.

"Where the hell is Bones anyway?" he demanded as a worried highland ramble burst forth from his chair's com panel, he waited patiently for it to finish and sighed.

"Translated into Standard Scott?" Kirk fondly chided his chief engineer and waited patiently for a calmer, clearer summary of events.

"It's no good Captain!" Scott explained, "The harder we try to get free, the more dense space becomes, it's like swimming through treacle, which if you ever had it in large enough quantities to consider trying it, would be quite bloody difficult!"

"But possible?" Kirk suggested hopefully.

"I'm sorry Sir; we're as stuck as a gnat in the sap. We're not going anywhere."

"Captain," Spock, who had been in silently analysing sensor data since the incident began suddenly straightened up from his stooped position over his viewing terminal (I'm sure Health and Safety would have something to say about that these days, but hey, this is the 2260's).

"I may have a theory on the nature of our current situation. Presently the ship appears to be in no immediate danger; outer hull pressure is negligible, ships systems appear to be functioning at acceptable proficiency, however, our physical momentum is inversely proportional to the amount of energy we expend trying to achieve it."

He seemed to hesitate for a moment before continuing.

"If sensor readings are correct, this area of space defies all the norms. The solution may be equally unconventional, but I must test my hypothesis before I can be certain of the outcome. Captain, if I may be excused to join Mr Scott in engineering?"

"Off course Mr Spock," Kirk nodded once, "keep me informed."

"I'll put the kettle on for ye Mr Spock," the engineer snorted, "I'm certainly not busy with much else."

As Spock left the bridge he may have noticed a stylus falling to the floor suddenly drift to a halt in mid-air. He may have seen the chronometers back pedalling to 00:00:00. He may have realised that no one moved as the doors of the turbolift swished shut, _had he_ been looking behind him. Instead, a cool creeping intuition struck him as the lift descended; the feeling settled in the pit of his stomach and refused to be dismissed; something was starting to go very wrong.

**Please R&R! All feedback welcome :-)**


	2. Ch2: Chasing Shadows

**The Star Collectors**

**Part 2**

**Chasing Shadows**

The red-lit corridors of the Enterprise where an eerie place to be at the best of times, McCoy knew, after the initial flurry of crewmen an women rushing to post on sounding of red alert he often found himself responding to medical calls through deserted passageways. Thankfully he knew the ship well and never got lost, today it seemed was the exception.

McCoy sat in front of the offending wall, swearing to himself that it had appeared out of thin air. He had never made it to the bridge, so he still didn't have a clue what was going on and his nerves tingled with apprehension. Adding injury to insult a trickle of blood ran down from his nose, which was starting to swell. He irritably wiped it away.

All things considered McCoy decided he wasn't having a very good day, which was all the more annoying since it had started out pretty well.

The lights flickered and something translucent passed through his field of vision, drifting through the labyrinth like a ghost. He wasn't quite sure if he actually _saw_ it or just understood that it was there, because the thing itself left little impression of substance. Things being as they were today could not get much stranger, so he picked himself up, brushed himself off and followed the thing, for lack of anything better to do. Besides, he thought, maybe _it_ knew where it was going.

-o-

When the turbolift doors re-opened Spock's eyebrow did a leap for his hairline. He was definitely not on any of the lift's designated routes, let alone where he had intended to be. In fact, the all-ranks recreation area was near none of the ship's lift networks. He stepped through the door into the rec room, taking a look behind him he noted the lift was no longer there and he was quite alone.

He quickly made his way to the nearest com unit.

"Spock to Captain," he awaited the response but none came. "Spock to Bridge, is anyone able to answer?"

Silence rang out from the small speaker. Turning to survey the room Spock noticed the wall mounted chronometer, it was illogical to give heed to a feeling he told himself, but the creeping cold in the pit of his stomach froze to ice at what he saw.

The chronometer stated the date and time at some two days after the ship had 'run aground' for lack of a better description. Several smaller chrono's all stated the same thing, they're accuracy was always assured – it had to be – but he checked each one for signs of malfunction or manipulation in any case, they were accurate to with one one-thousandth of a second.

"All personnel," he tried the com again, "any person in receipt of this message, please respond."

An eerie static crept from the com unit and a sound like whispering, no, broken and distorted – a female voice, "…..anybody there?"

Silence again.

Spock reached forward to respond when suddenly every unit, speaker and viewing screen in the room came to life with a loud, crackling static. The door to the rec room swished open as a scared looking crew man wandered past, he saw Spock, eyes widened with relief before the door swished shut again.

The static stopped as suddenly as it had started and Spock doubled to the door to get through, it opened, but this time there was a bulkhead directly in front of the door, obstructing his way.

Spock, unusually, was stuck for words. "Disturbing…" he muttered under his breath as the com once again crackled to life.

"..hands, all hands, this is the Captain. Any one hearing this message, please respond. I repeat; if anyone is receiving this message, respond."

Mentally chiding his lack of discipline Spock responded without evidencing his relief in his tone.

Jim Kirk didn't hide his, "Spock!" he enthused, "where the hell are you?"

"It is… an unusual story, Jim, if I may enquire how much time has elapsed since my leaving the bridge?"

"You've been gone over an hour, Scotty reported you'd never arrived in engineering. Ship-wide communications have been unreliable at best. The bridge crew is stranded here – the turbo lift doors open but the lift itself is gone." There was a heavy pause, Jim had feared the worst for his friend, "what happened?"

Spock glanced at the chrono which he noted had returned to the date and time - plus one hour – of his departure from the bridge.

"I have had an, interesting experience Jim, things are indeed not what they appear."

"I was getting that impression Spock, what are your thoughts?"

"As close an approximation as I can make at this time Captain, is that the very fabric of time and space are fractured and that the effect is localised to this region."

"An effect like the 'Guardian of Forever'?" Jim offered.

"I do not think so." Spock explained, "the Guardian of Forever only caused ripples in time, it is clear from my experiences that we are in fact experiencing time and space disorganisation. It is only when two points or pockets of reality are augmented correctly with one another that they can interact."

Understanding and disbelief dawned simultaneously, "are you saying that reality itself is jumbled up, and _shifting around_, Mr Spock?"

"Indeed, it seems to shift completely at random, I would suggest maintaining your position on the bridge Captain, finding oneself outside of the ship is not an impossible prospect."

The hiss of static overtook the sound of Spock's voice as he spoke, "Captain?" the hissing grew in volume, "_Captain..?" _he struggled to keep the concern from his voice.

Through the static he could make out Jim's voice, broken and crackling, "...ppening… …Spock… …you… …Oh my God_…"_

The com unit abruptly shut off.

Spock stood alone in the room once more, in the silence he noticed a growing hiss, the static, he thought, but no; this was different. He focussed his keen hearing on the sound only to wonder if he was in fact hearing it at all, or simply able to perceive its existence.

He is reminded of how similar the sound is to the background radio waves detected by early Terran scientists listening in on the farthest edges of the known universe.

The rec room doors open to reveal a corridor, the 'sound' intensifies with their opening. Fascinated, Spoke moves to follow the sound.


	3. Ch3: All the Pretty Monsters

**The Star Collectors**

**Part 3**

**All the Pretty Monsters**

May I just say, this story was meant to be a cute little one-shot. You know how people say that their muse just took their story and ran away with it? Well mine just turned up right in the middle and stampeded right through it, kind of like the creature that had just appeared in engineering….

"Get out've the way!" Scotty hollered as his staff threw themselves one way and the other, scrambling for the walls.

The huge and rather odd looking quadruped stooped low and rampaged through main engineering and out of the door at the far end.

It shouldn't have fit through the door, but physics didn't seem to mind, it didn't leave a single mark as tore off down the corridors of the lower deck, leaving the bewildered engineers behind it.

-O-

It was following their individual spectres that Spock and McCoy happened upon each other somewhere near the entrance to cargo bay 2.

To say that McCoy was happy to see Spock was an understatement, wandering the creepy corridors alone for so long had left the doctor so desperate for company he could have kissed the Vulcan on the cheek.

Spock merely raised one eyebrow and getting the distinct and rather unsettling impression that the good doctor was going to hug him, wondered why, of all the 431 personnel currently serving on board the Enterprise, it had to be McCoy he ran into.

"Calm yourself Doctor," Spock warned, unconsciously taking a step back into the safety of his personal space.

"What do you think is going on Spock?" McCoy exclaimed, not oblivious to the Vulcan's discomfort, "I thought I was going crazy back there. Where is everybody?"

"One question at a time…" Spock replied distractedly as his attention was drawn two ways. He reached for an unremarkable square panel on the nearest wall. He depressed it with his hand and it sprung out to reveal a small storage unit, no bigger than a shoe box. Inside: a laser saw, four ant-gravity clamps, three sets of breathing apparatus and a standard issue field medical kit. The container bore the words: EMERGENCY EXTRACTION KIT across the top.

"What do you need that for..?"

Spock, took the medical kit, strapped the laser saw to his belt and took two respirators, handing one to McCoy.

"I must return to the bridge" he stated, straightening as he did, "it is possible the fabric of the reality who's laws we are subject to has been denatured, congealed if you will pardon the use of metaphor."

"_Proteins_ denature Spock…" McCoy was about to add '_not_ _places_' when Spock cut him off.

"Indeed, then imagine that protein is us and you may develop the sense of urgency that this situation requires," he replaced the panel on the wall, "Your tricorder, Doctor."

"_Manners," _McCoy snapped but un-shouldered the device anyway, "and what do you have to back up your little theory?" He probed.

"My own observation," Spock was adjusting the medical device to enable a wider spectrum of function.

"But that's a crazy conclusion to jump to!" McCoy argued, after all, he reasoned to himself, he'd been wondering the same corridor all morning and apart from being completely lost, he hadn't found himself accidently walking into last week yet, "and that's your best guess?"

"I do not guess Doctor, I merely state the facts as I see them" Spock replied irritably. He failed to see the point in debating the subject.

"Sounds a whole lot like guessing to me…"

"If you are of the opinion that formation of a hypothesis based on the available information is equivalent to random idea selection I sincerely hope your patients do not hold too much faith in your diagnostic skills." With that remark he turned and began striding the length of the corridor toward the cargo bay.

"Alright, don't get your pointy ears in a twist!"

Spock continued to walk away, determining that if events continued the way they so far had, it would not be long before his location changed.

"Now wait just a damn minute!" McCoy exclaimed angrily, "I don't know if you've noticed but places don't exactly stay put for that long around here. You just stroll off and we get split up…"

"Preferable, and ultimately more productive" Spock interjected pausing briefly to key open the cargo bay door before he entered.

A mist was gathering at the far end of the bay, intrigued Spock ventured towards it. The Doctor's grumbling followed him as he explored further forwards and into the purplish haze.

"HEY!" He heard the shout from behind him. "You think this is funny do you?"

-o-

On the bridge Jim Kirk gazed in horror at the scene unravelling before him, the cloudy haze of the nebular had gone, leaving a clear view of the stars before them. Not far off in the distance; no further than Jupiter is from the Sun, a swollen star heaved its last gasps before them, it was about to nova.

"Sensor readings, Mr Chekov?"

"Sensors remain inoperable Keptin."

"Any answer from the helm Sulu?"

"None Sir" came the solemn response. They were sitting ducks, then. Kirks Jaw clenched, no shields, no engines, no communications, no way out. If Spock was right and his ship wasn't all in one place (or time for that matter) then the majority of the ship would be spared disintegration by the supernova about occur ahead, but fractured and stranded in space, how could his crew survive long enough to find a way home?

The Star collapsed inwards on itself, shrinking in size as rapidly as it had appeared.

"Gentlemen, Ladies;" Kirk stole a moment to quirk a whimsical grin, "I know every time we've been faced with the impossible so far, fate and good fortune has pulled us through."

It was true, he had spoken a variation on the words he was about to say before, and again as then, all eyes were on him, "But if this is as bad as it would appear, I want you all to know, that you are the best crew in the fleet, and I have been honoured to be your Captain."

The Star grew smaller still.

"The fact is; that fate and good fortune had nothing to do with it. It was your hard work and determination, your strength and character that has made us what we are. I'm proud of every one of you."

A stillness followed, the crew transfixed on the sight ahead.

The shrinking stopped, James Kirk held his breath, "Brace yourselves."

-o-

After their brief trip through the wardrobe Spock and McCoy found themselves on the crew deck.

"So suppose that you're right Spock," McCoy walked alongside Spock, waving his hand around animatedly as he spoke, "and reality is in fact more messed up than an inebriate doing his ABC's…" they rounded a corner, "Then we have no way of knowing which way is 'up' to put it simply, how do you know that the next turning won't lead to the offending side of an external bulkhead?"

Spock stopped to consider the matter and hopefully to put a cease to the Doctor's wittering.

"If you are referring to the risk of inadvertently leaving the ship…"

"Helluva wrong turning…"

"I had given thought to that eventuality, there seems to be little to be done by way of avoidance." Spock persisted, "I must return to the bridge."

"So you've said Spock, but don't you think that dying in the process might be a tad inconvenient?"

"Quiet Doctor," Spock's keen hearing focused in on an unusual sound, he definitely heard…

"Don't you shush me Spock!" McCoy flared, not understanding the sudden need for silence until he noticed the change in his companion's stance.

Spock held his hand up to the Doctor,_ "Listen."_

Quite abruptly the hush was broken when the cause of the disturbance came bounding into view making an absurd amount of noise as it hurtled towards the stunned pair. The gangly legged creature knocked the cornered Vulcan off his feet and in a fraction of a second Spock got the impression that he would likely land somewhere else entirely.

McCoy lunged after Spock as the scene changed around them. Landing rather roughly in the uneven dirt, McCoy quickly gathered himself and helped Spock to his feet.

"You ok?"

"I am quite alright Doctor." Spock was ruffled, but unharmed; he began to take stock of their situation.

They were both standing on a dusty plain, a huge red sky hung above them. Though clear, there was no sun in the sky, a bright white moon seemed to spin and blink on the horizon.

Both McCoy and Spock got the impression that it was a lot brighter than they actually could actually perceive. Like it was just sitting outside of their chunk of reality threatening to blaze in and tear it apart at any minute.

The air was hot and dry and burned the back of the throat as it was inhaled.

"Where in God's Universe is this place?" McCoy breathed, eyes wide as they both surveyed the rugged landscape stretching out before them.

The scene reminded McCoy of Mars, red mountains rose in the distance but instead of a barren land the plains where littered with herds of tall, pale creatures. The distant crackling noises of the things calling to one another drifted over to the stranded officers. He wondered if this is what it could have looked like before the oceans froze and the atmosphere had thinned away…

"Your respirator Doctor," Spock offered as he reached for his own.

"What?" McCoy was broken from his thoughts as he gazed dreamily across the plain. He looked dazed.

Spock reached for the respirator pouch on the Doctor's belt and withdrew the small mask, which he himself was already wearing, placed it on McCoy's face and waited.

McCoy didn't realise he had been panting, his face flushed as his mind regained clarity.

"Thanks Spock."

"None is necessary," Spock had already begun scanning the area with McCoy's medical tricorder, "the atmosphere of this planet contains considerably less oxygen than those to which we are accustomed."

The creature's crackly clicking sounded suddenly quite close by. Like the sound made when one constricts their own airway and takes a deep breath; kids do it all the time for fun, they've never watched 'The Grudge' so don't understand why it gives Mom the willies, but think it's funny anyway.

The clicking became louder and more rapid. Spock and McCoy turned slowly to see the monster from the Enterprise corridor regarding them with intent. One could only guess that intent was not good by the way it seemed to lower its long neck and crouch menacingly.

It looked like a bald giraffe with two knee joints per long elephant-like leg and what appeared to be a huge opal coloured eyeball on its neck instead of a head. The 'eyeball' extended out towards them before opening from the centre into a perfect circle of row upon row of sharp looking spines. The creature lunged towards Spock.

In a blur of dust and motion Spock found himself knocked of his feet once again but this time by McCoy. Something sharp raked along his arm in the confusion as Spock hit the floor.

A huge elephant like foot stomped the ground at Spock's feet, covering him in dust and a fine shower of rock. When he looked up again the Doctor was gone and the creature had seemingly disappeared.

A searing white light sliced into the ground in the distance and the earth heaved. Spock stumbled to his feet feeling the ground rapidly heating up around him, scorching the rock.

He stumbled backwards and onto the bridge.

**Please Please review! Tell me what you think so far, good bad or indifferent - I'm a new writer so I really appreciate the feedback :-)**

**AllTheSnakes and Zedoc - thank you! Hope you enjoyed the latest installment!**


	4. Ch4: A Rare Pearl

**The Star Collectors**

**Part 4**

**A Rare Pearl**

If you can imagine a hybridisation of peristalsis and very over enthusiastic acupuncture this experience was not quite like it.

Acupuncture is supposed to be relatively painless for one, not that McCoy had ever tried it. It wasn't that he was closed to the idea of alternative therapy if it works, but, he mused to himself, if he ever got out of this one he'd definitely give any more needles a wide berth. The last of the needles withdrew and he began to gag for oxygen, the mask he'd been wearing was gone, and he sure as hell wasn't opening his eyes or mouth on this roller coaster. He was picking up speed, 'Goddamn things got a long neck' he thought, dizziness gnawed at the edges of conscious thought, he couldn't control the reflex to breath. His diaphragm lurched, he opened his mouth and breathed in - a mouthful of blistering hot air, and came sliding to a halt in the dust inside a giant skeletal rib-cage on the plain.

McCoy rolled to his knees and drew huge gulps of the arid dry air. He was covered in spots of blood and gloop but it was clear that the very alive creature that had swallowed him moments ago had now been very dead for quite some time.

He stood, wiping the gloop away from his eyes and holding back the urge to throw up. The sky was deep crimson now and the landscape barely visible in the gloom, his initial relief at his uncanny good fortune was quickly overtaken by a creeping fear. He was on his own, with no idea of where or when he was, how or if he would ever get back to the ship. He could only hope that they were faring better than he.

-O-

The bridge was empty, the domed roof gone without sign of trauma, it simply wasn't there. Atmospheric retention shielding had not been engaged, which must mean that whatever was outside had, well, an atmosphere. Spock climbed the console that was his work station and peered out over the edge of the enterprise's disc like hull where the bridge crew were standing, gazing in disbelief at... a total impossibility.

"A pulsar…" Jim Kirk gaped in wonder at the spectacle before them, so close you could almost touch it yet not blinding, so dense it could tear apart a planet from light years away, yet hear they were. Almost as though it had no power to act, or it wasn't really there at all.

"_Captain" _Spock called from the bridge.

Jim turned and beamed, "Spock! It's about time. What do you make, of _this?"_

"Only a theory Captain," he shouted across the hull, "but it would be wise for you to return to the bridge."

Kirk briskly strode across the hull with the bridge crew in tow and clambered back inside.

The bright white ball continued to spin off the ship's bow, shafts of photons throwing themselves outwards from its poles painting the sky with raw energy as it turned.

"You're bleeding." The Captain noted, surveying his dust covered and dishevelled first officer.

"A minor wound, Captain, if I may..?"

"Go ahead Spock," it was beyond doubt that 'unusual' wouldn't quite describe what he and his crew had experienced in the last few hours, "I trust your theories more than most people's, in fact _anybody's_ facts, in this case especially." He smiled.

"Captain, since we spoke over the intercom, how much time has passed on the bridge?"

"Not more than an hour," He turned back to look at the star, "But what we've seen, defies explanation. Spock we saw this thing, the whole event. From nova to remnant in no time at all, like an action replay" Kirk tilted his head in curiosity, "it's incredible…" he trailed off.

"I surmise that what we have been experiencing is indeed a local phenomenon, but by no means exclusive. The things we are seeing exist within pockets of space time from the same dimensional plain but are not associated as they ordinarily would be."

"Jumbled up? Mixed together…. Yes we spoke about this, random displacement of reality."

"I no longer believe it is random Jim, I have sensed intelligence, a life form far different from any presently accepted convention. I believe that reality is being manipulated, deliberately, for a specific cause."

"A cause," Jim thought aloud, "that would allow you to stand within reach of a neutron star but not be harmed by it?"

Spock nodded, "Certainly one of the most deadly phenomena in the known universe, and a tremendous source of energy."

"If one could _harness_ it," Understanding lit the Captain's face in an instant, he sobered; "I'm guessing it's too late to ask if the beings responsible are hostile or peaceful."

No sooner had Kirk finished speaking than a sound of static filled the air with tension, an enormous, translucent shape drifted lazily over the bow of the ship and turned in the open space around it. It looked like a Jellyfish with a ring of circular sensory organs around its top and long tendrils that curled and snatched like a snake's tail. It seemed to regard them for some time before drifting horizontally so that its base reached for the spinning neutron star. The tendrils curled around the white hot mass and engulfed it, and then in less than a beat, the whole scene imploded and was gone.

Reality snapped back into place with a vengeance. The bridge sealed and the hum and whirr of its instruments replaced the static hum that had filled the air.

As if shaken from a haze Kirk whirled round to face Uhura, "Status reports lieutenant please, I want all men and women aboard accounted for." He spun to face the helm, "Full sensor sweep Mr Chekov, specifically searching for crewmen stranded outside the ship's hull," _God forbid _he added silently.

"Sir, I have confirmation from transporter rooms 1 and 2; standing by to receive casualties, Emergency Medical teams are en route."

"Five persons detected, beaming aboard now sir."

No order required, Kirk turned to his first Officer, "Spock?"

"All evidence of space disturbance has gone, with one exception; a rogue planetoid, possibly a satellite of the former star which was spared the effects of the Supernova which created this nebular. Once habitable, it is now barren and adrift in space." Spock's eyes drifted upwards from his scanner as he spoke, coming to rest on a point ahead of him.

"Spock?" Jim's concern was obvious, drawing subtle glances from the bridge crew as he stepped to the Vulcan's side, "is something wrong?"

Spock's focus on the wall in front of him remained unwavering, "It was indeed inhabited at one time Captain. And subject to the same time and space distortions we experienced." Spock straightened and turned towards Jim, "Doctor McCoy and I spent a short amount of time on the planet. There was," he paused, "an incident. I returned here alone."

Jim found a nearby seat and sat down, his eyes drawn to the green blood oozing through Spock's shirt sleeve, "Is there a chance he could have made it back on board?"

"Slim," almost imperceptibly his tone softened, "He prevented my death, quite possibly at the cost of his own."

"Captain," Uhura spoke up from her station with a steady, careful tone, "Crew status: no fatalities reported, sickbay is Major Incident Ready, there are injured persons on route Sir, status unknown. All crewmembers accounted for but one," She paused, seeming to listen but already having heard, "It's Doctor McCoy, Sir."

"Keptin," Chekov looked up from his sensor sweep, his eyes wide, "directly ahead, single wave of displacement, ETA approximately 10 seconds."

Kirk made a quick announcement over the Com, "All decks Brace for impact."

"Shields up Captain," Sulu held his injured arm to his chest and waited.

The wave struck, and the ship lurched like a cork in the ocean. As quickly as it had arrived the disturbance was gone, the Enterprise levelled once again in Space.

"Captain," Spock had already begun post impact recovery from his station, "Internal sensors detect an additional life reading on board," he blinked and seemed to have to re-focus before continuing, "life signs... …human, location…" His words trailed off and he crumpled to the floor.

-O-

Ground features shifted, the air grew cold and the light dimmed to murky brown fog, then to black. The hot and arid air froze in place; ice covered the world and time stood still.

Through a haze of dull awareness Leonard McCoy tried to think of something profound: a good note on which to part with the Universe, an understanding. Instead he heard… something.

Not like a sound, or even a thought: more like a mental itch tickling away at the corners of his conscious mind leaving the impression of meaning, his thoughts lolled as he struggled to pay attention like a narcoleptic engaging in a deep and meaningful debate.

"It, isn't where it's supposed to be"

"Hmmm"

"Do you think it's alive?"

_Probably, most decidedly, not, I think. _McCoy mused. The impression continued - his input unheard.

"Doubtless; this section of the coil is filled with them. And variations of course, they have 'behaviours' therefore they must be, in one way or another…"

"Aware?"

"Debatable…"

There was a pause.

"If I were it, I wouldn't be very happy."

"Hmmm"

"We should put it back, I think."

_Back where? _He wondered idly, _I'm not sure there is anywhere else to go. _

"Agreed." the impression resounded in his head with a finality which left him feeling like a base jumper without a parachute.

He landed, not so graciously and coughed violently as his chest expanded with air he didn't know he'd been missing. The light stung his eyes as he wobbled to his feet, every muscle protesting with the small effort which drained the last drops of strength from his tired limbs. He pitched, and held himself against the wall as his head began to spin, "I gotta stay off the sour mash," he muttered as he reached a comfortable looking space, dropped to the floor and fell asleep.

-O-

"Bones!"

He was chasing the long gangly creature that had just swallowed his friend as it scuttled awkwardly away down the cramped corridors of the Enterprise.

"Bones?!"

"I'll get you out Jim I promise!" he hollered as he ran, but the faster he tried to run, the harder it became. Like a stone in treacle he waded desperately after the escaping monster.

He thrashed against the resisting air, but hands held him back. "Jim!" he shouted in frustration.

"I'm right here Bones," came a reply from the wall. He stared at it, astonished.

"Doctor, it would be most advisable for you to wake up now."

"Shut up Spock," McCoy growled, "I'm talking to Jim."

Another hand slapped his face coaxingly; he batted it away, huffing with irritation.

"You could do me the courtesy of looking at me if we're having a conversation." Jim reasoned with his CMO as his eyes fluttered open and focused slowly on the wavering blond blob in front of him.

He noticed several things all at once, one: the monitor bleeping rapidly but steadily behind him, two: orientation; he was in fact horizontal, not standing at all. Three: he seemed to have attracted a fair amount of attention.

Regarding his two friends warily he made a decision and groaned, "I don't want to know," before rolling sideways in a not so subtle attempt at escape. The restraining hands were back and McCoy hissed; the movement hurt like hell, "God, I really don't want to know!" he gasped through gritted teeth. The monitor alarmed loudly, adding to the pounding in his head.

"Just hold still, Doctor," he recognised the voice of his lead nurse and the hiss of a hypo at his side.

"Who's that for? You or me?" he managed a smile as the pain began to ease, Christine Chapel looked tense and more than a little exhausted.

"In your condition, the less you move, the better," she chided as she reached up to silence the monitor alerts. By the way she jabbed at the silence key he guessed it probably wasn't for the first time.

"I could authorise turning off the alerts if…"

"NO!" All three chimed at once.

He blinked, and in rare moment of good judgement bit back the angry protest that begged to leap out, favouring instead a question.

"What happened?"

"What do you remember?" Jim prompted.

"Uh… I think it had something to do with too much bourbon. But I'm guessing maybe," his eyes danced around the room noting the bandaged arm Spock was clearly hiding behind his back, "_not._ Spock, did you hurt your arm?"

Spock sighed and patiently recounted the events leading to a whip crack of space displacement that rocked the ship some two days ago. The whip it seemed had deposited one bloodied and battered medical officer in the corridor outside crew quarters, huddled in a corner apparently having a snooze.

"The needle like 'teeth'," Spock explained, "each deposited a toxin which in addition to disrupting neural activity has a degrading effect on biological matter. An aid to digestion found commonly in many species venomous creatures on Earth, a fascinating parallel given the distinct difference between the species…"

"Sounds like a work of fiction to me," Bones cut in drowsily, his eyes were feeling heavy.

"Tell that to people who brought you back from the dead." Kirk added, "Several times."

He managed to open his eyes wide at that and for the first time noticed the tired and drawn faces that regarded him like a bomb that might explode any minute.

"Well I'm not an interesting breed of performing monkey so you can quit looking at me like _that_." He quipped, attempting to sound indignant, he'd have to apologise to his poor harassed looking staff, he decided, when he had the energy…

When he next awoke the lighting in sickbay was dull, on board ship there was a night cycle, an attempt to keep the crew's circadian rhythms in check.

Slowly he reached up to silence the monitor above his head and bit back a hiss at the protest of his muscles as he swung his legs off the bed and tentatively reached for the floor. The room swayed and he held onto the bed until the spinning subsided.

Across the sickbay Nurse Chapel was seated at the desk with her head resting on the PADD she held, her breathing was deep and regular but lines of worry wrinkled her brow as she slept.

McCoy tiptoed over to her, gathering up a blanket from a nearby bed as he passed.

"Damn soft hearted stupidity," he muttered as he wrapped the blanket around her as carefully as he could before retreating to his office for a quick sip of his own brand of analgesia.

As he cradled the glass of amber liquid he mused, '_Star_ _Collectors'_ Jim had called them, a very different breed of alien indeed. Harvesting the universe, like a diver looking for a rare pearl. But, he thought to himself, is it really that unusual at all?

He retrieved his personal log and stylus from the drawer and began to write:

_It was a well-known fact that most known bipedal sentient species in the galaxy are all freakishly similar: in fact, if it weren't so obvious from each individual planet's fossil record that these species evolved independently one would think they had been planted there, like some galactic cultural experiment._

_It is all too easy to slip into the 'class M bubble' and forget that there are far more strange and treacherous places in the universe than we can imagine…_

…_and some of them are closer than you think. _


End file.
